


Ab Imo Pectore - From The Heart

by fractalserpentine, HopeofDawn



Category: Legacy of Kain
Genre: Bloodplay, Dom/sub, M/M, Vampire Sex, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-03
Updated: 2011-03-03
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalserpentine/pseuds/fractalserpentine, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopeofDawn/pseuds/HopeofDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raziel has been reunited with his firstborn, against all odds.  While he and Anani work to gather the surviving Razielim, a storm forces them to camp for the night, and Raziel decides it is time to reclaim what is his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ab Imo Pectore - From The Heart

It was a dark and stormy night.

Like all vampire armies, the Razielim little beliked traveling in the rain. The youngest fledges had to be shielded beneath bulky layers of oiled cloth, and even the elders were forced to burn energy at a high rate, in order to heal the damage inflicted by the downpour. With human chattel in short supply, it was an expense the Razielim could ill-afford.

The sole shelter available was this small vale, sandwiched betwixt a pair of snowy peaks, without so much as a copse of black-needled pines to cut the wind. This high up, the rain was cold, and mixed with sleet. Camp had been laid with military order. Horses and well-bundled humans were grouped near the center, while low, simple tents provided shelter for groups of vampires on the periphery. The only larger tent was Raziel’s, and even it was modest, with just enough room to stand upright.

The only movement among the tents were a handful of cloaked messengers, making certain the small army was settled, that guards were stationed as well as possible, and that any rain-scorched fledglings had been attended to. They reported back to Anani, one by one, before darting to their own crowded tents. Within an hour after the rain had started in earnest, the camp was as well-laid as could be hoped for, and Anani pressed up the wooden latch that served instead of fabric ties to keep the doorflap of the command tent tightly closed. He ducked inside, tugging the flap shut behind him to keep out the wet wind.

Inside, the tent was lit only by a single candle. Raziel stood, his palms upon a small camp-table littered thickly with maps. “Lord Raziel, the encampment is secure,” Anani spoke over the dull patter of rain on the oiled cloth overhead.

"My thanks, Anani," Raziel said, glancing up briefly before frowning down at the maps once more. It was difficult not to chafe at the slowness of their progress, even knowing the reasons behind it; the Razielim had covered only a third of the distance that he, Tarrant and Kain could have made alone. Which did not make their movement anything but exceedingly swift by human or vampire standards, especially afoot, but still ... the longer they traveled, the more likely the prospect of ambush or lack of supplies became. "We will likely see battle in a day or so, perhaps three ... how is the temper of the clan? Are there any who are discontent with this mad chase?" None would dare grumble in front of Raziel, he knew full well. So he relied upon Anani and his offspring to report on their brethren's morale. Malcontents could be a nuisance ... or they could be toxic to an already battered and weary clan.

“Foul weather is ever a vexation, my Lord. But there are none who believe the regathering of the clan an unworthy task.” Few of even the unit commanders knew Raziel’s ultimate purpose, of course -- for now, most did not need to know. “And the exultation invoked by your return yet lingers,” said Anani. Though Raziel’s eldest was cautious lest his own emotions color his judgment of the remainder of the army, it was clear that the Clanlord’s apparent resurrection had lifted a crushing weight of despair from the soldiers. “My sole concern on that front will be supplies, for the injuries of battle could cost us half the present human stock.”

Anani did not approach the map-covered table, nor move forward at all. Water still dripped from him in rivulets, the liquid hissing almost imperceptibly against his armored skin, raising pink welts.

Raziel nodded. "I have brought a store of blood glyphs, but they will not last for long as our sole sustenance. We may have to do some raiding along our journey in order to have sufficient blood supplies." When Anani did not move further into the tent, Raziel glanced up again, and gave a gusty sigh. "Anani, do not play the stoic." Moving around the table, he pulled a spare cloak from a nearby stool and tossed it over his fledgling's head, scrubbing off the lingering damp. "You need not impress me with your endurance," he continued wryly. "I will not exile you out into the storm again this night."

Anani relaxed for a moment, ducking his head to better facilitate the rough passes of fabric and heavy claws. The motion recalled a time when his skin had been fledgling-thin, when it had seemed as if Raziel were invincible in truth, impervious to even the burn of water. He learned later, of course, that water touched Raziel the same as any other vampire, but Anani’s awe had never really faded, even if his Sire’s aura of indestructibility had tarnished a little.

The thought of Raziel and water -- far, far too much water -- suddenly made an anxious knot tighten in his belly. “Sire, please... do not...” he started, stepping back against the fragile tent wall even as he awkwardly reached to tug the cloak from Raziel’s hands. The fabric was absorbent, but thin, and would surely wet Raziel’s talons, and he didn’t want....

Raziel blinked at his fledgling's sudden recalcitrance. "What is the matter? Are you somehow wounded?" He did not think so--there was no bloodsmell, for one. His talons tightened briefly on the fabric as Anani tried to tug it away, gleaming wetly with moisture. But there was no hiss, no sizzle of stray droplets. Raziel, by now accustomed to his immunity to water, did not even pay heed to it.

“I... no,” said Anani, unable for a moment to find the proper words. He ducked out from under Raziel’s hands, and reached to remove the wet fabric from those broad talons. “T’will be difficult to handle the maps, if you...” he started, a twisted smile upon his lips, trying for some shade of humor. He sucked in a breath at the sight of droplets of rainwater sliding down Raziel’s wrists in the candlelight, and reached to swipe the wetness away.

Puzzled, Raziel let Anani reach for his wrists--only to have the light dawn as the water sizzled against the other vampire's talon-tips. "What are you--ah, the water?" He shook free of Anani's touch, frowning as the water sizzled and disappeared upon his firstborn's claws. Deliberately he reached out, hooking a hand over the join of neck and shoulder, letting the waterlogged strands of hair drip onto his hand. "Anani ... I no longer need to fear water. Not anymore."

“Sire...” Anani breathed, able to see and hear for himself, even in the dim light and over the drum of rain on the tent, that it was so. “How is this possible? What a wondrous g... development,” he said, for ‘gifts’ descended from a creature the Razielim no longer had cause to call God. Anani reached out with hesitant talons, trailing moisture across the stone-solid flesh of Raziel’s arm, exhaling with delight and relief as the water raised not even the slightest of wounds.

A smile ghosted across Raziel's lips at Anani's wonderment--though it was accompanied with a certain amount of regret. The price he had paid for this gift was not one he would ever be able to tell another. "In truth, I have grown so used to it that I did not even think to tell you," he admitted. Anani's touch was familiar, and comforting .... Reaching upward, Raziel drew his talons through the water-darkened strands of Anani's hair. His firstborn had been pale and golden-haired even before his making, and Anani's centuries as an immortal had only enhanced his coloring, turning pale skin to ivory, and fair hair to a luminous gold. "There have been so many changes for me ... and yet, you remain still the same," he murmured.

“Would that it were so,” Anani said, moving obediently into the embrace. One could not grieve so long without developing scars -- upon the soul even if they could no longer form upon the body. He exhaled a shaky laugh. “Never have we been so long without your presence. We -- I -- yearned for you. And still do -- Sire, in this time, you are still there, are you not? Still....” still tumbling, burning, tossed in primordial currants deep in the roiling abyss.... Anani closed his mouth with a click of fangs, realizing how little Raziel would likely want to speak of such matters. “Even still, after three days, I can scarce believe you real,” Anani said instead, pressing a roughly-ridged palm flat against Raziel’s chest.

There was an old sorrow in Raziel's eyes--ancient regrets and the knowledge that he still might leave them again one day .... The memory of the abyss, and what he had suffered--*was* suffering, in this time and place--was something he could not speak of. Not even to Anani. "I am real," he said instead, bending his head to place his lips upon Anani's throat, feeling as if the tide of memory threatened to swamp them both. "And my thoughts have long been on you as well. Thinking that you were gone, along with all the others ...." Raziel had grieved, even caught up in the necessity of his vengeance.

Anani tilted his head up and to the side, exposing his rainwater-streaked throat to Raziel’s fangs with an easy and instinctive compliance that had been engrained from the very moment of his awakening. But his talons curved along the flightmuscles that broadened Raziel’s chest, the pressure enough to break a human’s ribcage as he clung with strength that would have been brutal against a lesser being. Upon Raziel’s armored hide, Anani’s claws scarcely scored scratches. “Sire,” Anani murmured with a kind of desperate relief, his chilled skin soft under Raziel’s lips.

Raziel growled softly, and bit possessively at that neck, scoring the armored skin with his fangs. Anani--tasted the same, the unique scent and taste of his firstborn a balm to Raziel's ragged temper and hidden worries. Raziel slid taloned hands down his fledgling's armored form, skimming away water droplets with the edges of his palms and tugging Anani closer to him.

Anani nuzzled into the curve of Raziel’s pauldron, exhaling a shuddering breath that misted the bronzed steel. “I... would have followed you,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, moving just enough to bare each place Raziel laid fang, taking solace from the sharp nipping bites. His body fit against Raziel’s as perfectly as a key at long last sliding home into its lock -- or perhaps not quite that well, for both vampires as yet wore body armor. “Sire...” Anani gasped, a high and pleading sound, reaching for the hidden clasps that affixed Raziel’s heavy armor.

"I am glad you did not," Raziel said fiercely, his grip tightening. Then he loosed Anani, letting his firstborn play squire as he had so many times before, shrugging out of the heavier pauldrons and letting Anani's clever fingers undo clasps.

Years ago, this was easier -- before Anani developed the talons of an elder, when his fingers still slid softly against Raziel’s skin. But that was so long ago the memories were but fleeting shadows, even to a vampire’s mind, and now the rough catch of talons was more familiar. Anani laid aside the pieces with care, eyeing the multitude of new dents and scores the enchanted armor had acquired over the past ages. “I remember when these were wet, and so soft,” he breathed, reaching to stroke -- not along the edge of Raziel’s wing itself, but rather to lay his hand just beside. He’d lead the escorting force that had accompanied Raziel to the Sanctuary... and thus had been among those who had followed, at a distance, to the edge of.... he knew what had happened to those wings.

Even such an indirect touch made Raziel tense, the folded pinions shifting minutely in unease. Anani's three-taloned hand was nothing like a fledgling's, and a great deal more like Raziel's own ... or the elder Kain's. Closing his eyes, Raziel said quietly, "....it was a long Change." And difficult--even in his helpless, trance-like state, Raziel could tell that something fundamental was changing in him, was keeping him imprisoned by his own body for so long. Exultation and fear--it had begun before he had awakened, and continued right up to the moment he had presented himself before his Sire.

After ... there had only been pain, and rage, and betrayal.

Still, he refused to move away, to allow himself to be imprisoned by the past.

“Nearly a year,” Anani agreed. More, if Raziel’s malaise the months before the change were counted. “So often I thought to bring you news, or a tale, only to recall that you lay deep in the heart of the citadel.” Anani moved away, attending to Raziel’s clan drape, folding it neatly. “Towards the end, your youngest would gather near the great stone block that sealed the chamber. And... sometimes, after chasing them away, so would I,” he admitted. It had been a very long change, and it was a balm even to be close to Raziel’s aura once more. Anani picked up a stoppered flask, within which alcohol sloshed. He paused. “You need this no longer,” he said, almost surprised by the realization.

Raziel smiled a little at the words. "No, I do not--but I am not so selfish as to make you suffer for the sake of my cleanliness, just to use water instead." Now that Anani was no longer behind him, he reached out, touching and caressing, flicking stray droplets away with his talons. Anani's armor too had seen better days--battered and worn, and reflecting the battle-scars that his firstborn's vampiric flesh had undoubtedly healed. Raziel traced one such deep gash, near the heart, his amusement fading a bit. Then, dropping his hands to the nearest buckle, he began to ease it free, suddenly wishing to see the skin beneath, to know it was whole and unmarred.

“What -- Sire,” Anani started, a little confounded to have Raziel attend him so, then -- “Oh,” he breathed, and reached to assist with the buckles. The half-plate came away, and Anani caught up Raziel’s wrist, pressing those three strong talons over his breastbone. The skin was smooth, rippled only by the muscles beneath, and not by the twisted marks of scars. “I am healed, my Lord,” he said, which was now true in more sense than one.

Raziel stroked the smooth, perfect skin possessively, and with no small amount of gratitude. "I do not doubt your strength, Anani," he murmured, half to himself, his hands exploring further, sliding over the other man's chest, reacquainting himself with the curves of muscle and bone that comprised his firstborn. "Still ... any creature can be brought low." Even himself.

“Not you,” growled Anani, fiercely. “We all believe ourselves beyond death -- you truly are.” To return from that... from that place? To be whole, and so beautiful once more? Raziel was risen, resurrected, was a deity in truth. Anani moved back, just enough to uncork the flask he held, and wet the corner of a cloth. “Please, Sire, permit me...” he asked, reaching to a place where dirt streaked the perfect, high white of Raziel’s skin.

Raziel bit back the temptation to argue with Anani, to tell him of the price he had paid for his resurrection--and the other, greater price still yet to come. Perhaps later he would tell his firstborn the truth about his immortality. For now, he found he wanted--needed--Anani's unwavering faith and devotion in his Sire. "Very well," he murmured, closing his eyes and allowing the ministrations. The tang of the alcohol, the rub of rough fabric against his skin and Anani's careful hands all conspired to ease his tension and unknot his muscles. Silence fell between them, and in it Raziel was finally able to drop his guard and allow his weariness to show.

Gradually, one place at a time, the dust of road and travel was washed from Raziel’s skin, under Anani’s careful hands. He stroked, petted, lingering over the new muscles that enwrapped Raziel’s chest, connecting to the great flight membranes at his back. How strange to be exploring the results of Raziel’s latest evolution... millennia after it had occurred.

Leaning over, Anani blew out the candle, casting the tent in the cool, filtered shades of night and storm. “Come, Sire,” he purred, stroking a palm over Raziel’s shoulder, “the maps can wait until the storm eases, can they not?” Very gently, daring, he drew Raziel towards the fur-heaped sleeping pallet.

Letting Anani's capable hands soothe and gentle him, Raziel allowed himself to be led--but once there, he turned the tables on Anani, pressing him downward with inexorable strength. His wings mantled outward possessively as Anani sank onto the pallet, his pale skin almost luminous against the dark leather breaches and the dusty brown-black of the furs. "The maps may wait, but other things have waited too long, I think ..." he murmured, and moved to place his lips against that chest, licking and nipping with a sudden fierce fervor.

“Ah, _Raziel_...” breathed Anani, laid upon his back with no more than a token, teasing resistance. He arched up into the press of Raziel’s lips and fangs, gasping with pleasure. He combed his talons through his Lord’s hair, loosening the simple clasp that bound it, and cradled the back of Raziel’s head. As practiced and skilled as Raziel was, it was the relief of having his Sire here, like this, which brought a fine trembling to Anani’s skin. He dared not dwell upon it, lest his throat close over. “Indeed, Sire,” Anani gasped, grasping for a thread of humor, “only your attention... will suffice in these... matters of state.”

"I am glad you think so," Raziel murmured wickedly, then closed his mouth over one pointed nipple, nipping at it roughly in between kisses. He had missed this--the ability to lay with one of his own kind, to not have to restrain his claws and strength in consideration for fragile human flesh. Even Kain, as young as he currently was, risked injury if Raziel forgot himself--but not Anani. Not his firstborn, the eldest of the Razielim.

Anani groaned, twisting under Raziel, bucking up as those long fangs scored his skin, drawing a seep of thick, dark purple blood. He did not merely think, he knew -- Anani never could have permitted any but his Sire to lay above him, so. “Raziel,” be breathed, rolling his hips up against Raziel’s, knowing with his centuries of practice just what pressure, what cadence, his Sire loved best. Lightning from outside the tent momentarily cast Raziel in blue, rimmed with hot white; the thunder rumbled through them both.

The hard pressure against his confined erection was a painful, aching kind of pleasure, and Raziel groaned low in his throat, shifting so that he might straddle Anani and bring their bodies closer together. He laved one bitten nipple, lapping up the sweet, powerful taste of the younger vampire's blood. Then, surging upward, he pressed his mouth on Anani's, sharing the taste in a fierce kiss, tongue dipping inward to twine and explore. The rain had changed from a gentle patter, pounding louder upon the canvas of the tent as his hands skimmed downward, over the flat planes of chest and stomach, and lower, ripping at the lacing on the other man's breeches, suddenly impatient.

Tongues were nicked in the ferocious kiss, letting flow a few drops of Raziel’s near-black blood, thick as molasses. Anani’s body seized, he gripped the back of Raziel’s head, restraint abandoned for a single blistering moment. Raziel had always been wondrously powerful, of course, but now... oh, magnificent. He bucked up into his Sire’s talons, the laces of his breeches splitting even as he clawed along Raziel’s hip, his flank, slicing through Raziel’s tough leather clothing, scoring shallow cuts on platinum-white skin. Anani broke the kiss, gasping. “Master -- such strength...” his heavily booted hooves scraped through the thin straw mattress, goring into the stone beneath.

Raziel chuckled low in his throat, his lips curving upward. How ironic that the strength gifted him in the Abyss could also give his fledgling such pleasure ... "I assume it meets with your approval?" he said, lifting his mouth from Anani's teasingly, as if he were about to retreat.

Anani panted heavily, mouth tingling as if he had partaken of lightning, not blood. His thighs spread, welcoming, pressing his hips up against Raziel’s larger frame. Both hands slid to grip Raziel’s flanks, bushing aside the tattered remains of his Sire’s breeches, sharp talons gripping against white marbled skin. “Methinks... another taste is surely in order, Sire, before such broad-stroke judgment can be rendered....” Anani purred, just as teasing, arching up to flick his tongue over Raziel’s lower lip, to nibble pleadingly at the underside of his chin.

"Still circumspect in your judgments, I see," Raziel murmured, lowering his mouth once more and giving Anani another fierce, devouring kiss. As he did so, he settled himself firmly in the cradle of Anani's thighs, his hand pushing aside the leather placket and torn lacings, and taking possession of the hard and swelling flesh he found there. He did not liberate it immediately, however. Instead he cradled it, rubbing slowly with his palm, feeling Anani's cock push into his hand, the first drops of precome wetting his fingers.

Anani cried out against Raziel’s mouth as his cock was encircled by those brutally sharp, infinitely careful talons. His thighs trembled against Raziel’s, pleasure shockingly intense as the grooved surface of Raziel’s palm stroked over his organ. Tongues slicked against one another, pulsed deep. “Oh please... yes...” Anani breathed as his Sire’s mouth was lifted away. It took him a moment to regain a fraction of his senses. “So rarified, fine, full-bodied... I do believe we shall have to innitiate... trade relations, my Lord.”

"Oh?" Raziel's face had softened somewhat with amusement; a change that few had ever seen. Slipping downward a little, he buried his mouth against the softness under Anani's jaw, nipped hard at his throat. "And what would you offer, then, for such a ... unique vintage?" Lower, his hand moved inexorably, stroking downward, letting the sword-callouses of his palm and the finer serrations of his talons drag lightly over that oversensitive flesh. Every little cry only encouraged his efforts; watching his firstborn twist and surrender himself once more was a heady pleasure all on its own.

“Nnngh,” Anani’s reply was a garbled gasp as he fought against himself, quaking, pushing his cock up into that knowledgeable grip in little jerking shudders. To move too much was to risk injury, and yet Anani could scarce restrain his ardor -- not now, not beneath his Sire, who knew him, body and mind and soul. His head tilted back, exposing the softest places, laying them bare before Raziel’s fangs. “I... ah! Clearly the... the borders shall have to be opened, Sire, for they have been sealed for far too long,” he panted, his talons stroking up Raziel’s muscled flanks, the sharp tips of them tracing along the strong, armored column of Raziel’s spine. It was a shock to encounter the plated bone and corded muscle of the base of Raziel’s wings, where once there had been but bare skin.

Giving a little pleased growl at Anani's submission, Raziel took advantage of the offered flesh, sinking fangs inward and tasting Anani's blood once more. The wound sealed immediately after he released the bite, and he laved the vanishing bruise with his tongue, then bit again, enjoying the sensation of sharp fangs slicing into flesh, the spurt of heavy, powerful vampiric blood that followed, cascading over lips and tongue.

Then Anani's taloned fingers scraped over the base of his wings, and Raziel froze. Those talons, so similar to his own, were so much like ... For an endless frozen moment he could not think, could not react--could only wait for the inevitable wrenching agony to come.

Sensing displeasure in Raziel’s sudden stillness, Anani released him immediately, his talons falling to the furs on either side. Hot, sweet blood, honey-thick, escaped from the seal of Raziel’s lips and traced slowly down Anani’s throat. He swallowed as Raziel’s hand around him tightened just a little; as those long ivory fangs, buried in his flesh, slid marginally deeper, the shearing points fully capable of removing a large portion of Anani’s throat in a single bite. Anani was not afraid, exactly -- he knew Raziel, trusted his Sire’s restraint, even in fury. But Raziel’s dominance was well-engrained, and if he wished to take Anani’s throat... Anani would not deny him. One muscle at a time, he forced his body limp beneath his Sire’s -- “Master?” Anani breathed, softly.

The moment seemed to last forever ... and then it was broken by the familiar sound of his fledgling's voice. Raziel blinked; then, realizing what he had done, scowled fiercely. He loosened his grip, stroking Anani's flesh in mute apology, and met the younger vampire's apprehensive gaze. "... touch them again." He would *not* be held hostage by his past, imprisoned by his fears! Especially not in front of his Razielim.

Anani shivered a little as the fangs were withdrawn from his throat -- out of a yearning, pain-fired pleasure, not fear. So sweet, the feel of those ivory daggers slipping from his healing flesh.... Gingerly, Anani returned his hands to Raziel’s flanks, the ridges of his palm scraping on dark-veined skin. “I... Sire, are you certain?” he murmured, and at Raziel’s nod, Anani slid his hands to the bony joint once more, stroking the smooth, curved back of one talon lightly against the juncture of Raziel’s wings.

Raziel tensed--then relaxed when those stroking talons did nothing more than caress, letting out his breath in a slow hiss. Anani's talons were inexperienced, very unlike the preening he had received from the Ancients, but that too was oddly reassuring. Slow moments passed, and soon Raziel found himself arching into his firstborn's hands, shivering with pleasure and groaning a little as Anani's talon-tips grazed lightly over the thinner, sensitized skin. "Yes ... slowly ... just like that, Anani ..."

“So beautiful...” Anani purred, watching awestruck as those wings shuddered and flexed and spread above him, mantling, backlit by occasional flashes of lightning filtering through the thin, oiled fabric of the tent. Very cognizant of the sharp cutting surfaces of his talons -- the skin was so very soft here! -- Anani lifted his hand, settling the whole of his palm over the place where Raziel seemed most sensitive. And then very gently pressed down in a rocking motion, all those gripping little ridges that crossed his palm rubbing, teasing, upon tender skin.

Raziel gasped, his entire body arching, taut as a bowstring, as Anani's fiendishly clever fingers rubbed over the sensitive spot half-hidden at the base of his wings. "Anan--nnh!" Shuddering, he kissed Anani's lips again, biting at the corner of his jaw, smearing purplish-black blood with his lips, then licking it off with equal pleasure. Below, his hand cupped Anani's soft balls, weighing them, caressing them with a gentleness at odds with the sudden ferocity of his kisses.

Anani had little chance to savor his Sire’s bliss before those talons dipped lower, and his breath rose on a high, pleading whine. The spark of apprehension -- his softest flesh balanced between the razor-blade edges of Raziel’s talons -- only fired the pleasure higher. “Oh! Please, Sire!” Anani gasped, returning those little nipping kisses, arching his throat for the bites that drew thick blood. Having Raziel’s fangs in him felt so right, so complete... he needed more. “Please, your cock, I need it... need it in me... fuck me, Sire, please!” his thighs shuddered, his hips lifting in little, jerking, abortive thrusts, the tip of Raziel’s talon scraping against his perineum.

A low chuckle greeted those words--one that turned into an abortive gasp as Anani's frantic fingers scraped over his back, over the bony plate that protected the base of his wings. "So eager," Raziel murmured in approval, "So beautiful ... my clever Anani ..." Releasing his grip carefully, Raziel slid his hand out of the other man's breeches, then sliced them open with razor-edged claws, too impatient to wait for Anani to disrobe completely. Anani's cock bobbed upwards, flushed and heavy in its pale nest of hair, and Raziel closed his hand around it, urging his firstborn's hips higher, his legs wider.

Precome slicked Raziel’s hand, and the rough, catching little ridges over Raziel’s palm made Anani gasp, made him twist slowly on the furs, restraint long since lost. “It’s been so long...” he whispered, the insides of his thighs caressing, rubbing against Raziel’s hips and flank, before spreading. “Please, I need you -- put it in me, fill me -- oh!” The words were an incoherent babble of need and lust and devotion. Used only for sex and untried for more than two years, Anani’s ass was tight, the younger vampire too distracted even to try to relax.

If Anani were human, or even a fledgling, Raziel would have tried to stop, at least long enough to search out some oil ... but Anani was no fragile creature. He was an elder in his own right, and had been for centuries, and Raziel surged forward with a dark growl, freeing his aching cock and setting the head against that tight, dry hole. A slow surge of his hips, and he forced himself inward, unable to take his time, breaching the barrier of the younger vampire's body and sinking himself deep inside with one deep, powerful thrust. It was dry, uncomfortable, blood seeping from their conjoined flesh--but Raziel did not care. Not when he was surrounded by his fledgling's flesh and power, Anani spread luminous over the furs beneath him.

Anani cried out, head thrown back, gasping. His body spasmed against the relentless impalement, his scrabbling talons scored shallow gouges down Raziel’s flanks. But, however reluctantly, the little hole parted for the head of Raziel’s cock. The ring of muscle stretched and gave way, the warmth of his body gripped the invading cock in a glove-tight sheath. Anani struggled in jerky undulation against the furs, his body pinned and held by the brutal penetration and Raziel’s powerful grip on his hips. “Oh -- hurts...” Anani gasped, his thighs now winging wide, now trembling against Raziel’s hips, “So good....”

"Just like that, yes ..." Raziel growled, sinking to the hilt. He stayed there, suppressing the urge to thrust, his eyes sliding shut as he savored the convulsive clench of Anani's body around him, the slow ripple of internal muscles, and the scent of blood and precome. His hands clenched hard on the other vampire's hips, talons clawing bloody furrows that vanished almost as soon as they were made--and then he began to move, withdrawing slowly and thrusting inward. Hard, deep and relentless, wings mantled and shivering at the achingly tight clasp around his cock.

Blood alone slicked the way as the passage healed and tore and healed again around Raziel’s mercilessly thick organ. Each cruel impalement seemed to force itself a little deeper, to part untouched flesh. Anani was left only with wordless cries, gasps, small sobbing sounds of protest and pain... and ecstasy, as his Sire and Master reclaimed his rightful due. Anani’s cock dripped onto his stomach, trapped between his belly and Raziel’s, caressed with each slow thrust of the elder vampire’s hips. Every motion -- any motion -- ground Raziel’s cock against that hidden node of nerve endings, blinding Anani with white-hot bolts of bliss.

They moved together, falling into a rhythm as easily as old lovers--which, in a sense, they were. Centuries old, centuries familiar with each twist and turn of his fledgling's body, the timbre of his voice and the taste of his flesh and blood; just like the scent of the earth, the feel of the sky, this too was 'home'. "A-Anani ..." Raziel panted, surging inward, angling to rub hard against that particular spot. One hand slid upwards, stroked the flushed cock rubbing between their bellies, calloused palm curling around it tenderly. Anani's face was open, wanting, and beautiful--Raziel had to resist the temptation to claim those lips, drink in those cries. Instead he watched, memorizing every shift of expression, every twinge of pain and gasp of pleasure as he thrust deep.

The murmur of his name parted the haze of agony-shot bliss, just for a moment. “Master,” Anani breathed, eyes focusing on Raziel’s piercing golden gaze. His body trembled as that brutal, three-taloned hand closed with exquisite care around his aching cock. The next hard thrust wrung a cry from Anani lips -- “Ah! Please!” and he arched like a livewire, surging up to nip and bite at the underside of Raziel’s chin, the curve of his throat. “Please, please, oh -- please,” Anani gasped, not certain what he was begging for, restrain sundered, abandoned completely beneath Raziel’s sheltering body. The past year of despair and worry was washed away, just for a moment, by the palpable, encompassing press of the elder vampire’s aura. Anani’s world was narrowed down to pain and pleasure... and Raziel. “Please... please never leave me again,” Anani mouthed unthinkingly against Raziel’s skin.

Raziel arched into those hands, the sharp nipping bites ... but those broken words pierced through the veil of pleasure and need. "I ..." He could not promise to stay forever. Not with the Reaver always waiting. "Y-you are always a part of me," he panted out, unable to stop even for a moment. "My blood is yours, my power ... it will be with you ..." He sped his pace, feeling his balls tighten, the tension coiling deep in his gut as his climax drew near.

Anani closed his eyes against the gasped words, clinging close, fangs scraping against Raziel’s collar bone. “S-Sire,” he keened, crying out with each hard thrust, held upon the brink of control only by a long-engrained thread of obedience. He writhed with each hard, thrusting impalement, desperately trying to grind his cock harder into Raziel’s rough palm, to push back into the pleasure, to twist away from the pain.

"Come for me, Anani," Raziel growled, sinking himself deep. "Let me see it ..." He tightened his grip, caressing Anani's cock with long, rough strokes, pushing the younger vampire over the edge.

Clenching down painfully, magnificently tight upon the impalement that split his ass, Anani came, screaming the name of his Lord. His body seized with blind struggle, his jerking cock slicking the space between them in thick, silvery-metallic come, splashing up both their bellies. One of Anani’s talons, scrabbling for purchase, clasped tight around the joint of Raziel’s wings. Even in the grip of such ecstasy, Anani threw back his head, an instinctual baring of his throat.

Raziel held on for as long as he could, watching Anani's face tighten, the muscled body underneath him spasm, the cock in his hand jerk and spill its seed .... He was too close to his own climax to hold on for long, however. Anani cried out his name--and Raziel came with a hoarse cry of his own, surging upwards, burying himself to the hilt and sinking fangs into that offered throat, taking every ounce of pleasure his firstborn had to offer. Anani's blood was sweet, and potent, and Raziel drank deep, pulling fiercely even as he climaxed, filling him with his seed in a single blinding moment.

Anani gradually went limp, body hanging bonelessly in Raziel’s grasp, flesh twitching a little with the aftershocks of pleasure. Blood dripped from the places his body joined Raziel’s. Half mindless, Anani was aware enough only to relish the heat of the come pumped deep into his ass, the thick pressure of Raziel’s cock, the drawing sensation as Raziel swallowed against his skin. So perfect, to have those fangs in his throat once more... Anani sighed, just softly, an exhalation of contentment.

Slowly, his pleasure extended by the taste of Anani's blood, the sensations of his climax receded, leaving him boneless in their wake. After several long moments, Raziel released his bite with a small sigh of regret, kissing the wound as it sealed over and disappeared. Letting the remainder of his weight settle on the other vampire's body, Raziel murmured, "You taste just as I remembered ..."

Anani turned his head as if blind, nuzzling sightlessly upwards, brushing his cheek against Raziel’s, lapping the spilled blood from the corner of his Sire’s mouth. His hands moved languidly to stroke down Raziel’s back with an exhausted, languid affection. “You... taste like the Master,” Anani breathed, unthinking, as Raziel relaxed into the cradle of his hips and thighs.

"...truly?" Raziel said, blinking down at his fledgling in disbelief. He knew he had gained in power, but--did he truly equal Kain now? It was a thought both exhilarating and disturbing to contemplate. But ... if that power allowed him to save his clan, as well as imbue the Reaver, then perhaps he would welcome it after all. "How curious ..." he murmured, stroking over the fine-grained skin of Anani's chest, feeling the power that lay within its unbeating heart. Power seeded from Raziel's own, and therefore Kain--the origin of them all.

Anani took a moment to respond -- not out of any deep thought; it simply took a moment for Raziel’s words to filter through the golden haze of satisfaction. “Verily,” he asserted. Raziel was more powerful now than he had been, but even the tenor of the taste had changed, evolved, becoming more like that black incandescence that heralded Kain’s presence.

Lightning flashed distantly, casting Raziel in blue and white for a split second. Anani drew one hand from Raziel’s back and, talons undercurved, brushed a knuckle against the underside of one of Raziel’s limply spread wings, very gingerly. “So glorious,” he murmured, watching the way the leathery membrane stretched just slightly.

The wing twitched, shivering slightly under his touch. Then Raziel spread it outwards, lifting it and stretching the pinion with languorous pleasure, brushing it deliberately against Anani's hand as he did so. "It is my hope that I shall bear witness to the day in which you gain your own ..." he confessed. Which was the truth--but also brought an apprehensive thought with it as well. For if he truly succeeded in preserving the Razielim, they would inevitably fall victim to the same corruption as the other Clans ... unless he could find a way to stop it. Perhaps the Ancients ....

He shook the thought away. There would be time enough to worry about such things, if they succeeded. Right now the task before them was paramount, and there was little sense in brooding over obstacles that had not yet presented themselves.

Anani tightened his hold around Raziel, for a moment. “I will be honored the day my evolution follows yours, my Sire,” he whispered, kissing once more against the curve of Raziel’s jaw. “Methinks this is the second time you have given us all new life,” he murmured. Enveloped in Raziel’s aura, safe and secure for the first time in some two years, no longer carrying the weight of the clan he had been forced to lead, Anani relaxed, at last at ease.


End file.
